After the death of my father I encouraged myself with combining Bible verses and poems with images I'd done. May this be an encouraging page for those who are undergoing difficulties. The poems/songs are in public domain. BUT DO NOT USE MY STILL LIFE IMAGES ON WEB/BLOG PAGES OR FOR GIFTS/RESALE PURPOSES.

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Thursday, August 7, 2014

Though waves and storms go o’er my head,
Though strength, and health, and friends be gone;
Though joys be withered all, and dead,
Though every comfort be withdrawn;
On this my steadfast soul relies,-
Father, thy mercy never dies.

Fixed on this ground will I remain,
Though my heart fail, and flesh decay;
This anchor shall my soul sustain,
When earth’s foundations melt away;
Mercy’s full power I then shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.
Johann A. Rothe, tr. by J. Wesley

My God and Father, while I stray
Far from my home in life’s rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say,
Thy will be done.

Though dark my path and sad my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not,
Or breathe the prayer Divinely taught,
Thy will be done.

If thou shouldst call me to resign
What most I prize, it ne’er was mine;
I only yield Thee what was Thine:
Thy will be done.

If but my fainting heart be blest
With Thy sweet Spirit for its guest,
My God, to Thee I leave the rest;
Thy will be done.

Renew my will from day to day;
Blend it with Thine, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say,
Thy will be done.

Then, when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer oft mixed with tears before,
I’ll sing upon a happier shore,
Thy will be done.
Charlotte Elliott

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Peace, doubting heart! my God’s I am;
Who formed me man forbids my fear;
The Lord hath called me by my name;
The Lord protects, forever near:
His blood for me did once atone,
And still he loves and guards his own.

When, passing through the watery deep,
I ask in faith his promised aid,
The waves an awful distance keep,
And shrink from my devoted head:
Fearless, their violence I dare;
They cannot harm for God is there!

To him mine eye of faith I turn,
And through the fire pursue my way;
The fire forgets its power to burn,
The lambent flames around me play;
I own his power, accept the sign,
And shout to prove the Saviour mine.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high!
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide,
O receive my soul at last.

Other refuge have I none;
Hangs my helpless soul on thee:
Leave, O leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me:
All my trust on thee is stayed,
All my help from thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head
With the shadow of thy wing!

Thou, O Christ, art all I want;
More than all in thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is thy name,
I am all unrighteousness:
False and full of sin I am,
Thou art full of truth and grace.

Plenteous grace with thee is found,
Grace to cover all my sin:
Let the healing streams abound;
Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of thee:
Spring thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.
Charles Wesley

Like Thee, O Lord! how wondrous fair,
Lord Jesus, all Thy members are!
A life divine to them is giv’n-
The bright inheritance of heav’n!

Just as we were we came to Thee,
As heirs of wrath and misery:
Just as Thou art, now we are Thine,-
We stand in righteousness divine.

Just as Thou art! nor doubt nor fear
Can e’er to those like Thee be near!
O boundless love! as Thee we’re seen,-
The “righteousness of God in Him!”

Just as Thou art! O blissful ray
That turned our darkness into day!
That woke us from our death of sin,
To know our perfectness in Him!

Soon, soon, ‘mid joys on joys untold,
Thou wilt this grace and love unfold,
And worlds on worlds adoring see
The part Thy members have in thee!
J. Denham Smith

Monday, August 4, 2014

Come on, my partners in distress,
My comrades through the wilderness,
Who still your bodies feel;
Awhile forget your griefs and fears,
And look beyond this vale of tears,
To that celestial hill.

Beyond the bounds of time and space,
Look forward to that heavenly place,
The saints’ secure abode;
On faith’s strong eagle pinions rise,
And force your passage to the skies,
And scale the mount of God.

Who suffer with our Master here,
We shall before his face appear
And by his side sit down;
To patient faith the prize is sure,
And all that to the end endure
The cross, shall wear the crown.

Thrice blessed, bliss-inspiring hope!
It lifts the fainting spirits up,
It brings to life the dead:
Our conflicts here shall soon be past,
And you and I ascend at last,
Triumphant with our Head.

That great mysterious Deity
We soon with open face shall see;
The beatific sight
Shall fill the heavenly courts with praise,
And wide diffuse the golden blaze
Of everlasting light.
Charles Wesley

And is it so-I shall be like Thy Son?
Is this the grace which He for me has won?
Father of glory, (thought beyond all thought!)
In glory, to His own blest likeness brought!

Oh, Jesus, Lord, who loved me like to Thee?
Fruit of Thy work, with Thee, too, there to see
Thy glory, Lord, while endless ages roll,
Myself the prize and travail of Thy soul.

Yet it must be: Thy love had not its rest
Were Thy redeemed not with Thee fully blest,
That love that gives not as the world, but shares
All it possesses with its loved co-heirs.

Nor I alone; Thy loved ones, all complete
In glory, round Thee there with joy shall meet,-
All like Thee, for Thy glory like Thee, Lord,
Object supreme of all, by all adored.
J. N. Darby

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether my crosses were heavy or light,
Whether my pathway was cloudy or bright,
When I shall walk with the ransomed in white,
Safe in that beautiful land?

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether my trials were many or few,
Whether the world was unfaithful or true,
When my Redeemer in glory I view,
Home in that beautiful land?

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether the waters were bitter or sweet,
Murmuring gently or sad at my feet,
When the departed, with rapture, I meet,
Home in that beautiful land?

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether I pass with the morning away,
Whether at noontide or closing of day
When in the valley of Eden I stray,
Home in that beautiful land?
Fanny J. Crosby

The voice at midnight came;
He started up to hear:
A mortal arrow pierced his frame;
He fell, but felt no fear.

At midnight came the cry,
“To meet thy God prepare!”
He woke,-and caught his Captain’s eye,
Then, strong in faith and prayer,

His spirit with a bound
Left its encumbering clay:
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground
A darkened ruin lay.

The pains of death are past;
Labor and sorrow cease;
And life’s long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.

Soldier of Christ! well done!
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour’s joy.
James Montgomery
One more day’s work for Jesus;
One less of life for me!
But heav’n is nearer,
And Christ is dearer,
Than yesterday to me;
His love and light
Fill all my soul tonight.

One more day’s work for Jesus;
How glorious is my King!
‘Tis joy, not duty,
To speak His beauty;
My soul mounts on the wing
At the mere tho’t
How Christ my life has bought.

One more day’s work for Jesus;
How sweet the work has been,
To tell the story,
To show the glory,
When Christ’s flock enter in!
How it did shine
In this poor heart of mine!

One more day’s work for Jesus-
Oh, yes, a weary day;
But heav’n shines clearer,
And rest comes nearer,
At each step of the way;
And Christ in all-
Before His face I fall.

Oh, blessed work for Jesus!
Oh, rest at Jesus’ feet!
There toil seems pleasure.
My wants are treasure.
And pain for Him is sweet,
Lord, if I may,
I’ll serve another day.

Chorus
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One less of life for me.
Miss Anna Warner

Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure,
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”

Here see the bread of life; see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above;
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.
Thomas Moore

To the work! to the work! we are servants of God,Let us follow the path that our Master has trod;With the balm of His counsel our strength to renew,Let us do with our might what our hands find to do.

To the work! to the work! let the hungry be fed;To the fountain of Life let the weary be led;In the cross and its banner our glory shall be,While we herald the tidings, “Salvation is free!”

To the work! to the work! there is labor for all,For the kingdom of darkness and error shall fall;And the name of Jehovah exalted shall beIn the loud swelling chorus, “Salvation is free!”

To the work! to the work! in the strength of the Lord,And a robe and a crown shall our labor reward;When the home of the faithful our dwelling shall be,And we shout with the ransom’d “Salvation is free!”

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Unveil, O Lord, and on us shine
In glory and in grace;
The gaudy world grows pale before
The beauty of thy face.

Till thou art seen, it seems to be
A sort of fairy ground,
Where suns unsetting light the sky,
And flowers and fruits abound.

But when thy keener, purer beam
Is poured upon our sight,
It loses all its power to charm,
And what was day is night.

Its noblest toils are then the scourge
Which made thy blood to flow;
Its joys are but the treacherous thorns
Which circled round thy brow.

And thus, when we renounce for thee
Its restless aims and fears,
The tender memories of the past,
The hopes of coming years,-

Poor is our sacrifice, whose eyes
Are lighted from above;
We offer what we cannot keep
What we have ceased to love.

John H. Newman
Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave, and follow thee;
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,
Thou, from hence, my all shalt be:
Perish every fond ambition,
All I’ve sought, and hoped, and known;
Yet how rich is my condition,
God and heaven are still my own!

Let the world despise and leave me,
They have left my Saviour, too;
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
Thou art not, like man, untrue;
And, while thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate, and friends may shun me;
Show thy face, and all is bright.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure!
Come, disaster, scorn, and pain!
In thy service, pain is pleasure;
With thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called thee, “Abba, Father;”
I have stayed my heart on thee:
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,
All must work for good to me.

Man may trouble and distress me,
‘Twill but drive me to thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
O ‘tis not in grief to harm me,
While thy love is left to me;
O ‘twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with thee.

Know, my soul, thy full salvation;
Rise o’er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find in every station
Something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee;
What a Father’s smile is thine;
What a Saviour died to win thee:
Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Always with us, always with us;-
Words of cheer and words of love;
Thus the risen Saviour whispers,
From his dwelling-place above.
With us when we toil in sadness,
Sowing much, and reaping none;
Telling us that in the future
Golden harvests shall be won.

With us when the storm is sweeping
O’er our pathway dark and drear;
Waking hope within our bosoms,
Stilling every anxious fear.
With us in the lonely valley,
When we cross the chilling stream;
Lighting up the steps to glory
With salvation’s radiant beam.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Thy way, not mine O Lord,
However dark it be:
Lead me by Thine own hand:
Choose out the path for me.
Smooth let it be or rough,
It will be still the best;
Winding or straight, it leads
Right onward to Thy rest.

I dare not choose my lot;
I would not, if I might;
Choose Thou for me, my God:
So shall I walk aright.
Take Thou my cup, and it
With joy or sorrow fill,
As best to Thee may seem;
Choose Thou my good and ill.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

To the hills I lift mine eyes,
The everlasting hills;
Streaming thence in fresh supplies,
My soul the Spirit feels:
Will he not his help afford?
Help, while yet I ask, is given:
God comes down; the God and Lord
Who made both earth and heaven.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Glory to God on high,
Our peace is made with Heaven;
The Son of God came down to die,
That we might be forgiven.

His precious blood was shed,
His body bruised, for sin:
Remember this in eating bread,
And this in drinking wine.

Approach his royal board,
In his rich garments clad;
Join every tongue to praise the Lord,
And every heart be glad.

The Father gives the Son;
The Son, his flesh and blood;
The Spirit seals; and faith puts on
The righteousness of God.

Joseph HartOur Lord is now rejected,
And by the world disowned,
By the many still neglected,
And by the few enthroned,
But soon He’ll come in glory,
The hour is drawing nigh,
For the crowning day is coming by and by.

The heav’ns shall glow with splendor,
But brighter far than they
The saints shall shine in glory,
As Christ shall them array,
The beauty of the Saviour,
Shall dazzle ev’ry eye,
In the crowning day that’s coming by and by.

Our pain shall then be over,
We’ll sin and sigh no more,
Behind us all of sorrow,
And naught but joy before,
A joy in our Redeemer,
As we to Him are nigh,
In the crowning day that’s coming by and by.

Let all that look for, hasten
The coming joyful day,
By earnest consecration,
To walk the narrow way,
By gath’ring in the lost ones,
For whom our Lord did die,
For the crowning day that’s coming by and by.

Chorus
Oh, the crowning day is coming,
Is coming by and by,
When our Lord shall come in “power,”
And “glory” from on high.
Oh, the glorious sight will gladden,
Each waiting, watchful eye,
In the crowning day that’s coming by and by.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. John 14:2-3

When Jesus spoke of coming again “for you,” He wasn’t casually speaking. He was deeply, passionately, earnestly, and with an everlasting love speaking of your future with Him.
And though He was speaking from the upper room where the disciples were gathered for the passover, Christ was looking past His death on the cross and was looking into eternity.
And you were there.
Yes, even from that furnished room in Jerusalem, Christ saw you free at last from the things of earth: tears, sorrow, pain, sin, and the fear of death.
And He rejoiced in your garment of salvation, your robe of righteousness, your Heavenly glory and your having “put on immortality.”
And Christ, the omnipotent one, knowing that neither your eye nor ear nor heart had any knowledge of the things that had been prepared for you, knew you would be forever satisfied with His goodness.
Yes, dear one of Christ, Jesus spoke concerning His coming again before He left the upper room for the cross.
But you were in His heart.....in His very soul.....and you were beholding His glory.
So, dear loved one of Christ, as you journey through this barren earth, do not distrust His love.
For it was because of His great love for you that He suffered all for you.
And it will be because of His great love for you that He’ll not leave you behind....
away from glory.....away from Him. by M. Robbins

Why should our tears in sorrow flow
When God recalls his own,
And bids them leave a world of woe,
For an immortal crown?

Is not e’en death a gain to those
Whose life to God was given?
Gladly to earth their eyes they close,
To open them in heaven.

Their toils are past, their work is done,
And they are fully blest;
They fought the fight, the victory won,
And entered into rest.

Then let our sorrows cease to flow;
God has recalled his own;
But let our hearts, in every woe,
Still say, “Thy will be done.”

William H. Bathurst

It passeth knowledge, that dear love of Thine!
My Jesus! Saviour! yet this soul of mine
Would of that love, in all its depth and length,
Its height, and breadth, and everlasting strength,
Know more and more.

It passeth telling! that dear love of Thine!
My Jesus! Saviour! yet these lips of mine
Would fain proclaim to sinners far and near
A love which can remove all guilty fear,
And love beget.

It passeth praises! that dear love of Thine!
My Jesus! Saviour! yet this heart of mine
Would sing a love so rich, so full, so free,
Which brought an undone sinner, such as me,
Right home to God.

But ah! I cannot tell, or sing, or know,
The fullness of that love whilst here below;
Yet my poor vessel I may freely bring;
O Thou who art of love the living spring,
My vessel fill.

I am an empty vessel! scarce one thought
Or look of love to Thee I’ve ever brought;
Yet I may come, and come again to Thee
With this-the contrite sinner’s truthful plea-
“Thou lovest me.”

Oh, fill me, Jesus, Saviour, with Thy love!
May woes but drive me to the fount above;
Thither may I in childlike faith draw nigh,
And never to another fountain fly
But unto Thee!

And when, my Jesus! Thy dear face I see,
When at the lofty throne I bend the knee,
Then of Thy love-in all its breadth and length,
Its height, and depth, and everlasting strength-
My soul shall sing.

Monday, July 7, 2014

Hark! a voice divides the sky,-
Happy are the faithful dead!
In the Lord who sweetly die,
They from all their toils are freed:
Them the Spirit hath declared
Blest, unutterably blest;
Jesus is their great reward,
Jesus is their endless rest.

Followed by their works they go,
Where their Head is gone before;
Reconciled by grace below,
Grace hath opened mercy’s door;
Justified through faith alone,
Here they knew their sins forgiven,
Here they laid their burden down,
Hallowed and made meet for heaven.

Who can now lament the lot
Of a saint in Christ deceased?
Let the world, who know us not,
Call us hopeless and unblest;
When from flesh the spirit freed
Hastens homeward to return,
Mortals cry, “A man is dead!”
Angels sing, “A child is born!”

Born into the world above,
They our happy brother greet;
Bear him to the throne of love,
Place him at the Saviour’s feet:
Jesus smiles, and says, “Well done!
Good and faithful servant thou!
Enter, and receive thy crown;
Reign with me triumphant now.”

Charles Wesley
Come, every joyful heart,
That loves the Saviour’s name!
Your noblest powers exert,
To celebrate His fame;
Tell all above, and all below,
The debt of love to Him we owe,

He left His starry crown,
And laid His robes aside;
On wings of love came down,
And wept, and bled, and died;
What He endured no tongue can tell,
To save our souls from death and hell.

From the dark grave He rose-
The mansion of the dead;
And thence His mighty foes
In glorious triumph led;
Up thro’ the sky the Conqueror rode,
And reigns on high the Saviour God.

From thence, He’ll quickly come-
His chariot will not stay-
And bear our spirits home
To realms of endless day;
There shall we see His lovely face,
And ever be in His embrace.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Jesus, while our hearts are bleeding
O’er the spoils that death has won,
We would, at this solemn meeting,
Calmly say, “Thy will be done.”

Though cast down, we’re not forsaken;
Though afflicted, not alone:
Thou didst give, and thou hast taken;
Blessed Lord, “Thy will be done.”

Though to-day we’re filled with mourning,
Mercy still is on the throne;
With thy smiles of love returning,
We can sing, “Thy will be done.”

By thy hands the boon was given;
Thou hast taken but thine own:
Lord of earth, and God of heaven,
Evermore, “Thy will be done.”

Thomas Hastings

Arise, my soul, arise;
Shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice
In my behalf appears;
Before the throne my Surety stands,
Before the throne my Surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above,
For me to intercede;
His all redeeming love,
His precious blood to plead;
His blood atoned for all our race,
His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

The precious seed of weeping
To-day we sow once more,
The form of one now sleeping,
Whose pilgrimage is o’er.
Ah! death but safely lands him
Where we too would attain;
Our Father’s voice demands him,
And death to him is gain.

He has what we were wanting,
He sees what we believe;
The sins on earth so haunting
Have there no power to grieve:
Safe in his Saviour’s keeping,
Who sent him calm release,-
‘Tis only we are weeping,-
He dwells in perfect peace.

The crown of life he weareth,
He bears the shining palm,
The “Holy, holy,” shareth,
And joins the angels’ psalm;
But we, poor pilgrims, wander
Still through this land of woe
Till we shall meet him yonder,
And all his joy shall know.

Friday, July 4, 2014

Weep not for a brother deceased,
Our loss is his infinite gain;
A soul out of prison released,
And freed from its bodily chain;
With songs let us follow his flight,
And mount with his spirit above,
Escaped to the mansions of light,
And lodged in the Eden of love.

Our brother the haven hath gained,
Out-flying the tempest and wind;
His rest he hath sooner obtained,
And left his companions behind,
Still tossed on a sea of distress,
Hard toiling to make the blest shore,
Where all is assurance and peace,
And sorrow and sin are no more.

There all the ship’s company meet,
Who sailed with the Saviour beneath;
With shouting each other they greet,
And triumph o’er sorrow and death:
The voyage of life’s at an end;
The mortal affliction is past;
The age that in heaven they spend,
Forever and ever shall last.

Charles Wesley
It may be at morn, when the day is awaking,
When sunlight thro’ darkness and shadow is breaking,
That Jesus will come in the fullness of glory,
To receive from the world “His own.”

It may be at mid-day, it may be at twilight,
It may be, perchance, that the blackness of midnight
Will burst into light in the blaze of His glory,
When Jesus receives “His own.”

While its hosts cry Hosanna, from heaven descending,
With glorified saints and the angels attending,
With grace on His brow, like a halo of glory,
Will Jesus receive “His own.”

Oh, joy! oh, delight! should we go without dying,
No sickness, no sadness, no dread and no crying,
Caught up thro’ the clouds with our Lord into glory,
When Jesus receives “His own.”

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Man dieth and wasteth away,
And where is he?-Hark! from the skies,
I hear a voice answer and say,
“The spirit of man never dies!
His body, which came from the earth,
Must mingle again with the sod;
His soul, which in heaven had birth,
Returns to the bosom of God.”

No terror has death, or the grave,
To those who believe in the Lord,
Who know the Redeemer can save,
And lean on the faith of his word:
While ashes to ashes, and dust
We give unto dust, in our gloom,
The light of salvation we trust,
Which hangs like a lamp in the tomb.

O Lord God Almighty! to thee
We turn, as our solace above;
The waters may fail from the sea,
But never thy fountains of love:
O teach us thy will to obey,
And sing with one heart and accord,
“He gave, and he taketh away,
And praised be the name of the Lord.”

George P. Morris
When Jesus comes to reward His servants,
Whether it be noon or night,
Faithful to Him will He find us watching,
With our lamps all trimm’d and bright?

If at the dawn of the early morning,
He shall call us one by one,
When to the Lord we restore our talents,
Will He answer thee- Well done?

Have we been true to the trust He left us?
Do we seek to do our best?
If in our hearts there is naught condemns us,
We shall have a glorious rest.

Blessed are those whom the Lord finds watching,
In His glory they shall share;
If He shall come at the dawn or midnight,
Will He find us watching there?

Refrain
Oh, can we say we are ready, brother?
Ready for the soul’s bright home?
Say, will He find you and me still watching,
Waiting, waiting when the Lord shall come?

John S. B. Monsell
I look to Thee in every need,
And never look in vain;
I feel Thy strong and tender love,
And all is well again:
The thought of Thee is mightier far
Than sin, and pain, and sorrow are.

Discouraged in the work of life,
Disheartened by its load,
Shamed by its failures or its fears,
I sink beside the road;
But let me only think of Thee,
And then new heart springs up in me.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Sunshine and shadow are all around you;
Looking at evil we grope in the night,
Looking at Jesus we walk in the light,
Look for the beautiful, honor the right.

Think of the beautiful, think of the true,
Tho’ts like an avalanche sweep over you;
Keep not the multitude, sort them with care,
Testing by purity, purging by pray’r;
Think of the beautiful, think of the fair.

Talk of the beautiful, talk of the true;
Tongues full of poison are whisp’ring to you;
Answer them not with a talebearing word,
Only in blessing the voice should be heard;
Talk of the beautiful, talk of thy Lord.

Live for the beautiful, live for the true,
Lifting the fallen as Christ lifted you;
Search for the jewels imbedded in sin,
Bring them to Jesus, His blood washes clean;
Live for the beautiful, keep love within.

F. E. Belden
Have faith in God; what can there be
For Him too hard to do for thee?
He gave His Son; now all is free;
Have faith, have faith in God.

Have faith thy pardon to believe,
Let God’s own word thy fears relieve;
Have faith the Spirit to receive;
Have faith, have faith in God.

Have faith in God, and trust His might
That He will conquer as you fight,
And give the triumph to the right;
Have faith, have faith in God.

Have faith in God; press near His side;
Thy troubled soul trust Him to guide;
In life, in death, whate’er betide,
Have faith, have faith in God.

When at last I near the shore,
And the fearful breakers roar
‘Twixt me and my peaceful rest,
Then, while leaning on Thy breast,
May I hear Thee say to me,
“Fear not, I will pilot thee.”

Rev. Edward Hopper

Cling to the Bible, tho’ all else be taken;
Lose not its promises precious and sure;
Souls that are sleeping its echoes awaken,
Drink from the fountain, so peaceful, so pure.

Cling to the Bible, this jewel, this treasure
Brings to us honor and saves fallen man;
Pearl whose great value no mortal can measure,
Seek and secure it, O soul, while you can.

Lamp for the feet that in by-ways have wander’d,
Guide for the youth that would otherwise fall;
Hope for the sinner whose best days are squander’d,
Staff for the aged, and best book of all.Chorus
Cling to the Bible!
Cling to the Bible!
Cling to the Bible,
Our Lamp and Guide.